


Rise

by Lady_Eclair



Series: Watcher [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Amnesia, Angst, Asgard, Death, F/M, Fluff, Magic, Miðgarðr | Midgard, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Svartálfaheimr | Svartalfheim, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-22
Updated: 2016-12-29
Packaged: 2018-09-01 13:24:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8626156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Eclair/pseuds/Lady_Eclair
Summary: The aftermath.It's been months.All that remain are memories.But memories come back to haunt you.





	1. Remember

**Author's Note:**

> A sequel.
> 
> Please read the prequel - Drift.
> 
> Might help clarify some questions.

Tony sagged back in his chair.

His eyes were burning, and he was seeing double the amount of numbers than he was supposed to be seeing.

He’d been working for twelve hours straight, breaks only provided by the occasional trip to the bathroom, and to drink water. Even Friday had given up trying to speak to him, the AI had decided to slip into silence.

It had been like this since…

Since…

Tony’s heart seized just a little in his chest.

It had been months.

_Months._

Still he couldn’t get the anguish to fade.

He could remember it as clear as the light of day. The way that Thor had literally staggered into the Avenger’s Tower.

The questions had rung out immediately.

Was Jane alright? Had something happened to her?

Thor’s only response had been a look of pure agony, and a single word that had brought tears to Tony’s eyes.

Nyx.

The Iron Man slumped to his room, pausing only to pour himself a drink, fingers gripping the glass so tightly that he thought it might shatter.

Everything had gone to hell after that.

Thor had gone… Who knew where…

Then all that shit with the accords had gone down, and the Avengers had become little more than a name. Everything had broken apart, starting with her death.

Nyx.

How long ago had it been that she’d been fidgeting on his computers, searching for something new to read? It felt like decades, centuries.

With a sigh, the billionaire downed the last of his whiskey, ignoring the burn of the alcohol as it seared down his throat before flopping back on his bed.

He had work to do, he knew that, he knew he was supposed to figure out all those equations out before noon, but…

Just a few hours.

A few hours.

Maybe then he wouldn’t have to feel the pain.

They hadn’t even found her body…

_Stop it!_

Tony shook himself out of the anguish that was building in his chest and squeezed his burning eyes shut.

What was done, was done.

She was gone.

He had to accept that.

The Iron Man slowly drifted off to sleep, remembering the innocent violet eyes that had belonged to a dear friend.

 


	2. What the Water Gave Me

_“I will not kill you. Not something so dear and precious to me. No… I could not bear to destroy such a perfect creature.”_

There are things that are worse than death.

_“They will not look for you, why would they? Your magic is gone, Heimdall cannot see past my spell that is cloaking you. To top it off, the account of the court sorcerer, who tried so to save you from your deadly tumble will be irrefutable evidence of your demise.”_

Solitude is one of them.

Not solitude in the sense that others know it, where you need to be alone with yourself and your thoughts.

No.

Solitude that surpasses even loneliness, a deep gnawing feeling in the pit of your stomach that you are alone. Utterly alone.

That everyone has forgotten you.

To be nothing but a ghost.

That is worse than death.

_“Do not fear. Your magic will be used for the furtherment of my success. It is better this way little kitten, after all, someone so soft should never have played host to a power like this. It will be far more effective in my hands.”_

I had nearly gone mad in the wastelands, surrounded by sand and darkness. There were times when, between mouthfuls of lichen and mushrooms, I thought death would be best. A leap off the top of a mountain perhaps, or to venture into the sandstorms. Times when my feet bled from endless walking to search for some way out, where I thought that I should just curl up and never wake again.

It would have been easier, and far less painful.

 _He_ would have liked that I’m sure. Getting rid of me without having actually bloodied his hands. Sadly for him, my stubborn streak runs a mile wide, and the pure burning wrath that saturated my very soul at the very thought of _him_ kept me going.

With no magic, and no possible way to contact Heimdal my options for escape had been zero. Yet I’d wandered as far as I could, in search of something, some possible way to escape. It had been months, and I had pretty much given up hope.

Until the water had given me something.

There are paths that link the realms together, hidden to most and treacherous to all. They constantly shifted, moving location, hovering here and there which meant once you went through, there was no guarantee you could go back. Not only that, but, one wrong step and you will be lost for eternity in a void, drifting aimlessly. Even if you are able to navigate the complex pathways, things that cannot be named lurk in the shadows, ready to pounce on the unsuspecting.

All in all, it was not advised to use these paths.

So I had read in a book.

I had been searching for one of those paths, fruitlessly. I mean, I had no idea where to start, no idea where to look. So imagine my surprise when, in the middle of the night as I waited for sleep in the darkness of my cave, a soft pale light began to emanate from the pool of water. At first I thought I was dreaming, until I’d rolled onto a particularly sharp rock which dug deeply into the flesh of my back. The pain informed me abruptly that I hadn’t been asleep, and that this, right in front of me was my way out.

My only way out.

I’d leapt into the water without a second thought, diving for the light regardless of the danger, not caring if I ended up in the frozen wastelands of Jotunheim or lost in the stars. Anywhere but here would work, anywhere…

The sensation of falling through the pathway was akin to that of falling asleep. A subtle plunge of your body and mind, pulling away from the reality of one world, and out into another, except there was no dream that awaited me on the other side of the light.

It was freedom.

Freedom from my oppressive prison.

Freedom to seek revenge.

Oh, was it going to be sweet.


	3. Strange

When I’d first awoken, to a strange new world filled with light, and life and energy, I had spent every waking moment learning. Learning words, and histories and figuring out things that somehow made sense and at the same time, were confusing.

Like ice-cream.

You had to heat milk to make it, and yet when it was served, it was frozen.

The idea baffled me at first, but then I got used to it.

Like I had to get used to the idea, that here, in the dusty, humid and at the same time try air of Mumbai – I was nobody.

I wasn’t, Nyx the surprise guest from space. Or Nyx the sorceress in training.

I was no-one.

And no-one...

No-one isn't someone.

The first few days had been disorientating, after I’d stumbled from the pathway. I couldn’t tell you how long I had run and then staggered through the confusing ever-changing paths that connected the universe, for I had been in a sort of a daze, but it had been a good long while. Which meant, I was tired, hungry and weak with exhaustion.

I’d discovered then, that sleeping on the street, was as terrifying as people thought, and at the same time wasn’t as bad as I had imagined.

A quiet corner, between a barber shop and a spice-shop served as my home for the first few days. I had done nothing more than rest, chewing a few dried mushrooms that I’d grabbed before my journey, trying to build up the strength I’d lost.

A few people, dressed in clothes more ragged than mine, and with wild desperate eyes had tried to steal from me, brandishing sticks and yelling something in what I assumed was Hindi. They left me alone very quickly, when they realised that my possessions included a dried mushroom, my ragged clothes and a nasty right-hook.

On the fifth day, I’d dared to move.

Which was when I heard it.

First, it was a few cautious words whispered in a backroom bar so clouded with smoke that I couldn’t see my hand in front of me. The bouncers had tossed me out shortly after I arrived, but I’d heard it.

Magic.

After that incident, I’d been on high alert, listening to every conversation I could, trying to decipher the languages spoken around me. Some with greater effect than others. It was easy at first, I mean, poverty had garnered little more than disgust and disdain from society, which effectively granted me the power of invisibility.

No-one cares what they say around the poor and destitute it seemed.

The rumours had grown, from whispers, to near announcements.

Magic!

Everyone I questioned, everyone I had tried to speak to hushed me, or hurried away. But it was there, the truth.

I just didn’t know how to actually get the whole story.

I had thought about contacting the Avengers, I mean, they had helped me before so it seemed natural that they would be able to help again. Except, they wouldn’t be able to.

Not anymore.

I’d heard about what happened while I was gone, how they had gone at each other like they were enemies instead of allies. Besides, I doubted that Wanda was going to be able to return the magic I’d lost. I was also not in the mood to declare an inter-realm war between Midgard and Asgard, which would most likely be the result of me relaying the events that had transpired.

No.

I had to sort this out myself.

I had to do this.

Only, I had no idea how,I had no money, no viable skills and it seemed next to no luck. To top it all off, I was stuck in a foreign country.

Desperation makes one brave, and stupid, and mean. Really, really mean. I had used that desperation, to corner an elderly woman in a small but crowded market, begging her to let me know what the true rumour was. Desperate for information. I hadn't taken no for an answer, and the force with which I'd held onto her arm, still brought me no small amount of shame.

Perhaps she took pity on me, or maybe she was just annoyed or frightened, but she had thrust a newpaper into my hands and stormed off.

It was in English and the headline had read.

_‘Man saves world with suspected magic. New Avenger?’_

I’d read the article at least a hundred times, memorising the words, dedicating every ounce of my mind to trying to find more than the scant details given. The problem was, no-one knew exactly where this man was, or even his name. I pondered this all again, as I took shelter from the warm summer rain, resting my considerably thinner frame against the wall of a dilapidated building.

Even if I found him… The odds that he could help me regain what I’d lost were slim. Still, it was the best lead I had.

The only lead I had.

I sighed and closed my eyes, ignoring the fierce growl that my stomach let out, and focused rather on how I was going to find this magic man.

_“Kitten…”_

I shuddered, and jerked away from the wall straight out into the rain, bare feet staining brown with mud and I stumbled away. I’d rather go the rest of my life without sleep, than have to hear _that_ voice again.

I wandered for a while, through the markets and crowded streets, managing to pilfer an apple from a fruit stall without being noticed. It was over-ripe, but I ate it with relish.

Hunger that gnaws at your very bones makes you a very non-picky person.

“Okay universe,” I mumbled as the sun slowly started setting. “I’m not sure where I’m supposed to go, or if you’re even listening, but I need you to help me one more time. Just… One last time.”

There was no sudden epiphany, or realisation. Hell the closest I got to a sign was a man on a run down Vespa nearly slamming into me, and I yelled obscenities at him as he screeched off, leaving me shaken on the sidewalk.

I wandered onwards after that, not paying attention to where I was going, just going so that I had something to do.

“It’s not safe for a woman alone at night.”

The words were spoken in English. The accent, clearly American, and yet when I lifted my head to glance around the darkened alleyways, there was no person who could have uttered them.

_Now you’re hallucinating. Wonderful._

“I hear you’ve been asking questions that you shouldn’t.”

I whipped around, the voice had been right behind me, and yet as I turned to face the speaker all I was met with was darkness.

“I don’t make a habit of speaking to bodiless voices,” I called into the darkness. “Except to tell them to go away.”

“Oh, I have a body.”

The voice sounded amused.

“Must be really horrible if you’re hiding,” I called, trying to figure out where this man was, turning slowly, muscles tensing. I’d run at the first sign of danger, there was no fighting. Not in the state I was in, not if I wanted to live. “Is it a habit of yours to frighten women in dark alleys after sunset? Or am I a special case?”

“As I said, you’ve been asking questions that you shouldn’t have been. Harassing old women in marketplaces? Sneaking in brothels to hear gossip? That was bound to draw attention.”

“There’s no danger in curiosity.”

“Curiosity killed the cat…”

“I’m not a cat.”

“I would hope not.”

I still couldn't see him, or figure out where he was.

 “Are you the man everyone whispers about? The weird magic man who saved the world?”

“That’s very straightforward…”

He sounded annoyed, maybe I shouldn’t have called him weird.

“Are you?”

There was a pause, and then the shadows to my right parted. Despite the dim light, my eyes picked up his features easily enough, and I frowned.

Who wore capes anymore?

Besides Thor, but Thor was a demi-god and fashion in Asgard was… unique.

He was tall, and lanky. A bit older than he sounded, and with eyes that seemed to see past every defense I had, straight to my soul. It was unnerving to say the very least.

“Dr. Steven Strange,” He extended his hand towards me and I eyed it. Dozens of scars, and the fingers were shaky and a little crooked here and there. “Current guardian of the New York sanctuary.”

“Is that a zoo?”

He looked like he’d been slapped, and then he smiled as I shook his hand. There was a confidence in that grin, that spoke of getting everything he wanted when he used it. Here was a man, unaccustomed to rejection.

“Who are you?”

I contemplated this for a moment.

“Just a woman looking for help, of the magical kind,” I shrugged. “I think you can help me, if you are as magical as people seem to think.”

Those eyes studied me for a moment.

“You don’t seem uncomfortable with the idea of magic at all.”

I paused, and then with a sigh I decided that if I was going to ask for help, I might as well be truthful. At least, as truthful as was necessary.

“Of course not, I used to be a sorceress, or at least one in training.”

“Used to be?”

I winced.

“The power I had was stolen from me,” I managed to not choke on my words, as the memories of betrayal, of _his_ betrayal flashed across my mind. My hands balled into fists, and I had to coax myself into relaxing them. “I thought, if anyone could help me regain them, it would be a man versed in magic.”

“While you seem like a small innocent woman, I must admit I'm a little suspicious. Don't take it personally though, one of the duties of a guardian, is to make sure that the magic of Earth is protected. When I heard that there was someone inquiring about me, and magic, my first thought was that we had a new threat, besides Dormammu.”

“Door what?”

“Dormammu, just your average chaos seeking being with unlimited power and a bad attitude. I have to be sure you're not one of his minions."

“I’m not…” I paused and glanced at the tall man. What proof did I have? He was right to be suspicious, I mean, I was an unknown factor, a wildcard. I inhaled slowly and then met his gaze with my own. “I’m not a threat. Not to Earth, not to you. Unless you try anything stupid. I warn you, I have a nasty right hook."

“Noted. But my dear, if you're not a threat... Then what are you?”

I contemplated this for a moment, glancing around the unfamiliar alleyway, looking at the dirt covered skin of my feet, feeling the dull ever-present ache in my chest. It was sad but it was true.

“Lost.”

Dr. Strange’s eyes fixed on me, and I fought the urge to squirm. Why did it feel like he was x-raying me?

“Well," He held out his hand again. "Let’s see if maybe we can help you find your way.”


End file.
